Fighting Sickness
by closetcannons
Summary: Head Cannon as Harry, Ron, and Hermione face an unexpected challenge battling sickness while in hiding during DH: "Ron's smile quickly faded as he could hear a fit of coughing coming from the tent. It has been several nights now that he would hear Hermione through the night. And it had only gotten worst." RxH
1. Sickness Sets In

_Winter: 1998_

He looked up, admiring the splatter of stars that painted the night sky. Ron chuckled under his breath as he recalled one of Professor Trelawney's rubbish rants on how she believed that the stars could help "for-see the future". He paused to survey the little balls of light, wondering what they would tell him about theirs.

Pulling his coat tighter to his body, he stoked the fire in a poor attempt to warm himself. He sighed deeply and could see his breath billowing in clouds from the frigid air. It was cold, but he didn't care. Ron had found his friends. Weeks ago- thats all he ever wanted, ever cared about. He would gladly sit through the freezing nights, tired and shivering, if it meant being with Harry and Hermione.

Ron looked back at the entrance of their tent and could see the warm dim light peaking through. He smiled to himself, content to know that his friends were safe inside, sleeping. He may have been pushing his luck, but he even thought that Hermione was slowly beginning to let her walls down towards him. There was much less dirty looks and her silent treatments weren't as silent as they used to be. Now they merely existed with one another. On the rare occasion, they even talked about potential plans and ideas for their next move. Hermione had even given him a cup of tea a few nights ago before his watch. She had remembered how he had liked it- 2 scoops of sugar. He smiled again at the thought.

Ron's smile quickly faded as he could hear a fit of coughing coming from the tent. It has been several nights now that he would hear Hermione through the night. And it had only gotten worst. They had run out of pepper-up potion a few weeks ago when Harry caught a cold after pulling that bloody stunt in the frozen lake. He felt helpless as he heard another wave of coughs arise from the tent.

Of course Hermione had been stubborn these last few days saying she was "fine", but Ron could tell that she wasn't. What started off as a cold had taken a quick turn for the worst. The bags under her eyes seemed to have gotten darker these past few days and he could hear her toss and turn through the night. It didn't help that she would stay up late staring at that bloody children's book, almost begging for some sort of answer to magically appear.

Ron noticed how thin she had gotten from these last several months, barely getting by on mushroom stew and any scraps they could find. The hallow in her cheeks seemed more pronounced and her shoulders stuck out more than he remembered. Hermione always made sure that Harry and him got a bigger helping than her for their seldom meals. He cursed himself for the times he had been a total git over her cooking. He hated that locket, and how he had let it effect him.

Ron's train of thought was disrupted by Harry stumbling half-asleep out of the tent entrance, still struggling to put his coat on and glasses crooked.

"Your early- I at least got another half hour before my shifts over." Ron said.

"Can't sleep." Harry shrugged. "Thought i'd come relieve you early so you can warm up and get some rest." Harry slurred, while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Thanks mate." Ron stretched, muscles stiff from sitting for so long in the cold. "…Is she doing alright?" he asked, nodding his head towards the tent's direction. Harry looked back, his eyes flashed with concern.

"I don't know… she's not getting any better." Harry worried.

Ron nodded in agreement. "Listen- I know it's dangerous, but I think we need to do something to help her. She can't apparate in this condition."

"I agree. We can make a plan in the morning. You go on inside and get some sleep." Harry patted him on the shoulder.

"Thanks Harry." Ron patted him back. "Oh, and you may want this-" he said as he threw him his blanket. "It's bloody freezing tonight."

"Thanks mate, g'night." Harry smiled.

Ron could hear the crunch of the frozen ground beneath his feet as he made his way back to the tent. The warmth emanating from the entrance began to thaw his cold cheeks as he ducked his way inside. Ron looked over to the dark corner where Hermione's bunk sat in the shadows. Squinting his eyes, he could see the dark mass that lay in the bed. Careful not to make too much noise, he quietly took off his coat and shoes and decided to take the risk to check on her.

As Ron approached, he could see Hermione curled up in her bed, shaking through her pile of blankets she was wrapped in. Ron leaned down and quietly sat at the edge of the bed. Sounds of little shivers escaped from the heap of blankets. She had definitely gotten worst from the time he started his watch a few hours ago. Ron hesitantly put his hand on her shoulder, wondering if he should let her be. Choosing to be brave, he licked his lips and gently shook her.

"Hermione?" he whispered. Hermione slowly stirred and turned to face him. Ron's stomach dropped as he took in the physical state she was in. Her forehead was glistening with sweat, the hair on the back of her neck was damp and clung to her wet skin, her face was colorless and pale. He instinctively put his palm up to her forehead, a practice he had picked up from his Mum after watching all the times his siblings had gotten sick growing up. Heat radiated from her skin before he was even able to touch it.

Hermione closed her eyes at the cool relief his cold hand offered, forgetting that she was supposed to be angry at him.

"Your burning up. Are you alright?" Ron whispered gently.

"I'm fine." Hermione croaked, as she pulled the blankets tighter around her.

"Is there anything you need?" Hermione turned away from Ron to continue her cold facade.

"Please Hermione. Let me help you." Ron pleaded softly.

"Honestly, Ron." she mumbled under her breath. "I can manage, thank you." She swallowed. Truth was, she felt awful. Every inch of her body ached in pain. She could feel her nightshirt sticking to her skin, drenched in sweat. Her body felt weak and her throat was raw. Maybe a cup of tea would offer some relief. Yes. That would surely help.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked surprised as he watched her slowly struggle to sit up and untangle herself from her blankets.

"It's none of your business." Hermione hissed, but Ron was unfazed by the venom in her voice- his eyes remain filled with concern. Hermione sighed as she melted under his gaze. "If you _must_ know, I am going to make some tea." She said, her voice hoarse. Forcing herself to swing her legs off the side of the bed, Hermione fought to stand, clinging to the bunk frame to steady herself.

"Go lie back down, I can make it." Ron demanded as he tried to guide her back to the bed.

"No." she spat stubbornly, closing her eyes in an attempt to rid the stars that danced in her vision. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck. "I can do it myself."

Letting go of the bunk shakily, she took several unsteady steps towards the kitchen. Her body felt as if it were made of lead. Blackness began to envelope her sight as if she were walking into a dark tunnel. Her knees started to buckle underneath her, she desperately grabbed around blindly to try and find something to support herself. Several pans fall with a loud crash as she stumbles around- barley able to stay conscious. Hermione felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her as she started to crumble to the floor.

"Bloody hell." Ron mumbled angrily as he helped her back to her feet and guided her to the couch to lie down.

"Hermione, please. You can be angry at me all you want, but I can't let you keep going on like this. I'm worried about you." Ron scanned her face, her eyes were bloodshot and the color had completely drained from her dried lips.

Closing her eyes, Hermione nodded in surrender. She could hear Ron shuffle around the kitchen as he put the kettle on the stove and grabbed a cloth, muttering " _aguamenti"._

Kneeling down next to her, Ron gently lie the cool rag on her burning forehead. Hermione felt a sigh escape her lips at the relief the coolness of the wet rag brought her burning skin.

"Thank you, Ron." she breathed. Ron smiled, feeling comfortable in their silence for the first time in a long time. He couldn't help but notice this was the closest they had been for a while. His thoughts were interrupted by the whistle of the tea kettle.

Hermione strained to open her eyes and watched as Ron stood and prepared her tea. She could feel the anger begin to subside as he tried so desperately to take care of her, despite the bitterness she had shown him.

Ron approached her, cautious not to spill the steaming cup of tea, and knelt down by her side.

"Alright, It may be a little hot. Can you try and sit up for me?" he asked. Hermione shifted her body slowly to sit up and leaned her back against the arm rest to support herself. Ron slowly brought the cup to her mouth, he was surprised to feel her fragile hands cover his to help guide the tea the rest of the way to her lips. Her cold hands tremble over his as she tilted the cup and sipped gingerly, taking in the tea slowly.

Hermione guided the cup away and swallowed carefully. The warm tea soothed her throat as she felt it slide down. Exhausted from the energy it took to sit up, she collapsed back on the couch and exhaled loudly, shutting her eyes. Ron lay the wet rag back on her forehead and began to slowly wipe away the sweat that had collected on her forehead. His heart stopped as he noticed Hermione looking at him with those brown eyes- he suddenly felt self-conscious of the intimate gesture. He was so close to her. Something that didn't happen often since his return. He swallowed loudly as he thought through the words he so badly wanted to tell her.

"Hermione, I know I have said it a hundred times, but I don't care. I'll say it as many times as I need to. I'm sorry. I am so sorry for leaving. I regretted it the moment I left. If I could take it all back, I would. I am so sorry for everything. For all the hurt I have caused you." Ron said shakily.

"Ron, stop." she shook her head in exhaustion.

"No- I'm not finished." he interrupted. "I'm sorry for the massive prat I have been to you all these years. I'm sorry for the way I treated you last year when I was with Lavender. I was _so_ _stupid._ I don't even know what I was thinking.' He said, running his hands through his hair nervously.

'I'm sorry for the huge git I was at the yule ball. I ruined your night all because I was acting barmy when I saw you with Krum. I'm sorry for 3rd year, when I blamed Crookshanks for eating Scabbers- I wish he would have." He let out a shaky laugh.

"I'm sorry for the little arse I was 1st and 2nd year. I am sorry for it all Hermione." Ron confessed. He surveyed Hermione's face, so desperately trying to read her thoughts. Her eyes blinked and began to water as she carefully took all of his words in. She reached delicately for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I forgave you a long time ago for all those things Ron. And I _will_ forgive you for leaving, I am hurt- but I will forgive you." she smiled weakly.

"I don't deserve it, Hermione." Ron shook his head.

"You don't get to make that decision." Hermione said softly. Ron smiled meekly and squeezed her hand back.

The moment was ruined by a wave of deep coughs that shook Hermione's whole body. Ron wrapped his arm around her shoulders and helped her sit up as she struggled to catch her breath. Grabbing the tea, he slowly brought it back to her lips. A pit of worry filled his stomach as he watched her struggle to drink. The ghoul in the attic with spattergroit may have had it better off than Hermione. Gently, he helped her lay back down and grabbed her blankets from the bed to cover her body. Hermione grabbed the blankets and wrapped them tightly around her, closing her eyes in exhaustion. They sat there silently for a while, taking in the sounds of the fire from outside of the tent. Ron was almost convinced she had fallen asleep until he heard her begin to stir.

"Ron?" she asked as she fought to stay awake.

"Hmm?" he asked.

"I'm glad your back." she slurred sleepily. Ron smiled warmly as he watched her breathing steady and succumb to the sleep she so desperately needed.

"Hang in there Hermione." he whispered.

Quietly, he rose from the floor and walked to his bunk to grab his own blankets. Satisfied with the sofa chair next to Hermione, he sat to settle in for the rest of the night. His eyes began to feel heavy as he listened to Hermione's steady breaths and watched her chest rise and fall. A sound he had missed desperately while he had been gone.

Slowly he drifted to sleep- knowing he would need it for the challenges tomorrow would bring.


	2. Something's Wrong

The room was black. Fear enveloped her as her eyes slowly adjusted to it's surroundings. Hermione was back in Bathilda Bagshot's house, lying on the cold floor. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong- she couldn't move. Eyes darted in panic as she looked around the ragged house- she could see the shadowy remains of Bathilda's body crumpled on the floor. A noise crept from the corner of the room, her pulse began to race. She tried calling for help, but no noise escaped her. A large snake slithered from the shadows, its eyes glowing with hunger. It was Nagini. The snake's tongue flickered in and out of it's mouth as she approached her. Hermione desperately tried to move, but she was frozen- paralyzed with fear. Helpless, Nagini slid across her body and began to coil around her chest, slowly crushing the air out of her lungs. She couldn't breath. Eyes bulging with fear, her heart beat faster, still unable to move. The large snake opened her mouth and lunged.

Hermione shot up from her slumber, gasping for air. Her eyes scanned the room wildly, a wave of relief washed over her as she realized she had awoken back in the tent. It was only a nightmare. But was it? She ran a hand through her hair, it was soaked with sweat. Her ribs felt sore and her chest still felt constricted. She struggled to breath. Why couldn't she breath?

A small snore made her jump as she turned to see Ron sleeping soundly in the sofa chair next to her. A thought crossed her mind to wake him- just to reassure herself that everything was okay. Hermione shook her head at the thought- _don't be silly... you are not a child_.

Careful not to wake him, Hermione shakily stood and tiptoed her way to the bathroom - leaning against the wall for balance. Opening the door, she found her way to the sink and grasped the porcelain edges to support her weak body. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she struggled to catch her breath. Turning the faucet, she cupped her hands under the faucet and splashed the cold water on her face.

A ghostly figure caught her eye as she stared into the mirror. A trembling hand touched her cheeks to prove that the reflection was her. Her skin was slick with sweat and was sickly pale. Dark bags shadowed her eyes, accenting her sunken cheeks. The white in her eyes had become blood red- she must have burst a blood vessel due to the force of her coughing. For the first time, she noticed how skinny she had gotten. Her jaw was sharp and she could see her collar bone press out of her skin. Worry began to prickle inside of her as she came to a realization that she was slowly wasting away. How much longer could she live like this?

The tightness in her chest increased as she struggled to take a breath. She clenched the sink again, knuckles white as she gasped for air. Wheezes escaped every time she breathed in and out, accompanied with a stabbing pain in her chest. It felt as if the snake was still wrapped around her body, crushing her lungs. A coughing fit hit her and rattled her body until a metallic taste began to swim in her mouth. Hovering over the sink, she spit out the horrendous taste and saw clouds of red swirl down the drain. Something was wrong.

The room began to spin and the dreadful stars returned and danced around her vision. Leaning back against the wall, she slid down to the floor and closed her eyes-waiting for the dizzy spell to pass. She could feel herself slipping in and out of consciousness until the room slowly faded to black.

* * *

The sky began to fill with pink and purple hues as the sun peaked over the horizon. The frozen grass had began to thaw, causing the blades to sparkle in it's beautiful warm rays. They had made it another day. Harry sighed, exhausted from the long cold night and in anticipation for the challenges another day would bring. He was tired, both physically and mentally. Oh, what he would do to wake up to Molly's hot breakfast's at the burrow and to see Ginny. _Ginny_. He sighed again, pushing the selfish thoughts away. Harry rubbed his heavy eyes under his glasses and stood with a yawn.

Harry made his way up the hill to the tent entrance and ducked his way into the warmth. Rubbing his hands together, he breathed hot air into them in a attempt to thaw them. A snore directed his attention to a sleeping Ron sprawled across the small sofa chair. Confused, he looked around for a sign of Hermione. The only evidence of her was a crumple of blankets on a very empty couch. Concerned, he looked over to her bunk. Also empty.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows- he debated waking Ron to ask how she was doing, but chose against it. Ron had pulled a double shift last night as he had so chivalrously volunteered to cover Hermione's so she could get some rest. Harry rolled his eyes at the thought. Ron took advantage of every opportunity he could to try and get back on good terms with Hermione. He was barmy.

His concern grew as he looked around the rest of the tent for a sign of his friend. The last he had seen her, she was looking quite ill. Ron was right to be worried, because he was too. This was more than some common cold... you had to be blind to not see the toll their travels had taken on her. Guilt started to cloud his mind. He couldn't help but blame himself for all their troubles. His two best friends were risking _everything_ just for him. What if something were to happen to them? He would never be able to forgive himself. The sound of the sink running from the loo distracted him from his deprecating thoughts. Harry quietly walked over to the door and leaned in closer to hear.

"Hermione?" he whispered. No answer.

Harry cleared his throat, maybe she didn't hear him. "Hermione?" he says slightly louder.

Still no answer. A pit of worry began to churn in his stomach. Something didn't feel right.

"Hermione?" He says louder as he clenches his fist and lightly knocks on the door. The door slowly creaks open to reveal a figure lying on the floor. Heart racing, he swings open the door to see Hermione lying against the wall. Her lips were colorless and her skin almost appeared translucent. She could have passed for a ghost.

Harry dropped to the floor and began to shake her shoulders. She was freezing. "Hermione? Wake up." No response. Panicked, he looked at her chest to make sure she was breathing- her breaths were fast and shallow. Something was wrong.

"Ron!" he yelled. "Ron! Come quick!" he could hear Ron in the other room blundering around muttering a string of profanities.

Ron runs into the room, immediately his eyes widen as he sees Hermione lying on the ground. Before Harry knew it, Ron was on the floor- cupping Hermione's face in his hands.

"Hermione? Hermione!" his voice shook. " _Bloody Hell_. Whats wrong with her?" Ron looked at Harry, wild.

Harry shook his head. "I- I don't know."

Hermione groaned and her eyes began to flutter.

"Hermione? Can you hear me?" Ron said gently- hands still cupping her face.

Hermione weakly opened her eyes- Ron inhaled sharply as he saw her blood-red eyes. A sight that would surely haunt him.

"What happened?" She wheezed, looking dazed and confused.

"You tell me. Your scaring us Hermione." Harry worried.

Hermione closed her eyes and licked her dried lips. Horrible crackling coughs escaped her lungs as she clutched her chest. Harry quickly stood and took the nearest cup and filled it with water and brought it to her lips.

She took several small sips and began to choke and sputter. Harry quickly pulled the cup away. Ron rubbed her back- not knowing what else to do to help her. Hermione gasped for air, lungs rattling as she breathed in. The sound was horrible.

"We're going to get you off this floor, okay? Ron asked. Hermione slowly nodded in agreement as Ron scooped her up. His heart dropped as he lifted the poor girl. She was _so_ light and her body shook.

Gently, he draped her body back on the couch while Harry lie blankets over her.

The two of them stared at each other- helpless and unsure of what to do for their sick friend.

Harry watched as Ron anxiously rubbed the stubble across his face- his hands were trembling. Harry could tell his gears were turning, thinking of something- anything to do for her.

Ron watched as Hermione struggled. His fists clenched as her eyes shut tightly in pain with every ragged breath she took. This was killing him. He had never felt so helpless. She wouldn't last another day like this. There was no choice, they had to do something.

"I'm going to get help." Ron said expressionless.

"What? It's too dangerous!" Harry protested as Ron walked across the tent and quickly began to put on his coat.

"Harry! Look at her! She needs a healer!" Ron bellowed.

"I'm...fine." Hermione struggled to breathed.

Harry surveyed his friend with concern, guilt began to creep back inside his mind. This was all because of _him_. "Then let me go."

"Don't be mental. You're the most wanted wizard in the world right now. Besides, you don't know what it's like out there. I do." Ron argued. He could see Harry's mind racing as he considered his reasoning.

"Please..." Hermione whimpered. The boys ignored her.

"Fine." Harry surrendered. "What do we do?"

Ron thought for a moment, running his hands nervously through his hair. It was his idea to come to these woods. He knew a wizarding village not too far from here. His Mum and Dad used to tell him about this little village they used to visit on their way to Aunt Muriel's. Probably to get their fill of fire whiskey before having to deal with the dreadful women.

"There is a small village a few kilometers away. There _has_ to be an apothecary there." Ron desperately thought out loud.

"What about snatchers? Won't they be crawling all over the place?" Harry challenged.

"I can take your invisibility cloak and sneak in and out. Nobody will see me."

Harry thought through the plan, running it through his mind thinking of every way it could go wrong. He looked over to Hermione, the sound of her raspy breaths were enough to convince him this was the way- the _only_ way. Harry slowly shook his head in agreement. This _had_ to work. Harry walked over to Hermione's bunk and took the cloak out of her charmed bag.

"In and out." Harry said sternly, handing the cloak to him.

Ron gratefully took the cloak from Harry. "Thank you mate. I will only be a few hours. If I'm not back by dusk, you take her to get help. Take her to a muggle healer if you have to. You leave without me. Tell me you will." Ron demanded, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I will." Harry said reluctantly.

Ron walked over to Hermione and knelt down on the floor to get closer to her. He could see tears streaming down the sides of her face and her lips trembling. She looked him in the eye and shook her head in protest. A few more tears rolled down her temple, getting lost in her hair.

"Don't...leave. Please." She wheezed, nostrils flaring as she silently cried. Ron's heart crumbled at the words that escaped her mouth. He had told himself he would never leave her side again. He took her hand and held it tight.

"I'm not leaving you, Hermione. Not again." Ron whispered, squeezing her hand. "I need to do this. I don't know what I would do f if anything ever happened to you." Harry shuffled awkwardly at the intimate confession. Ron cleared his throat. "...or Harry. I'll be back before you know it."

"You promise me." she strained. He could feel Hermione squeeze his hand harder.

"I promise." he smiled weakly, caressing her hand with his thumb.

With a final squeeze of her hand, he stood and let go, turning towards Harry.

"Be careful." Harry said.

"I will. Look after her."

"I will." Harry nodded.

With a deep breath, he walked towards the tent entrance and looked back at Hermione one last time. He couldn't fail. With determination, he draped the cloak around his body and left his two friends for the second time. Something he thought he would never have to do again.


	3. Finding a Friend

It was quiet. Not the peaceful kind of quiet, but the kind that made your hair stand on end. The eerie kind of silence that infected the mind with paranoia and made you jump at the snap of a twig. The only sound was the crunch of the frozen ground as Ron traversed his way through the forest. He cringed at every step he made, constantly peering over his shoulder for any sign of unwanted visitors. He felt as if he were a mountain troll blundering through the woods. Grawp would have been more discreet than him, but there was no time to waste. He had to move, and fast.

He breathed heavily under the cloak as he made his trek towards the small village. The hot stale air felt suffocating beneath the fabric. Ron felt winded as he continued to battle his way through the thick forest. He _had_ to be getting close. He had been walking for at least an hour.

He knew this was the only option. There was no other choice. Hermione wouldn't last another day in her condition, her health was declining rapidly. His heart dropped as he recalled the state he had seen her in that morning. He had never felt such fear until he opened the bathroom door and saw her lying there on the floor. Ron trembled at the thought. She looked as if she could have been dead.

Ron heard the rusting of leaves ahead and stopped, pulse racing. His eyes scanned the trees for any signs of movement. He listened closely, standing there like a startled deer. He gripped his wand tight, ready to fight at any given moment. Ron had dealt with snatchers before, but he had gotten lucky. The snatchers he had run into were completely gormless, but they were driven by hatred and greed.

"What's your name?" The short stubby snatcher had asked him, wand tip digging into his neck. The man had several teeth missing and reeked of alcohol and body odor.

"Stan. Stan Shunpike." Ron said, spitting blood from his mouth. The five snatchers had caught him by surprise and ganged up on him - beating the wand from his hand and giving him several kicks to the face in the process.

"Shunpike you say? I erd' that name before... I swear it." The other lanky snatcher said- rubbing his pimply chin as if he were deep in thought.

"Probably 'cause he's on the list, you stupid wanker. Dirge, tie em' up." The hooded leader of the group said, nodding towards Ron. The largest snatcher grunted in response and dragged Ron across the ground and bound his hands and feet. Dirge was massive, but clumsy as he walked. He seemed to be quite dull as he fumbled around...even his eyes were slightly crossed - Ron could have sworn he was part Troll.

"What do you suppose we do with him, Delvin?" The fat stubby one asked, wand digging deeper into Ron's neck.

The hooded man bent down facing Ron, eyeing him suspiciously. One of his eyes were clouded over and a fat cigar hung out of his mouth. "What are you hiding boy? What you doin out ere' in these woods?" Delvin said, taking a puff from his cigar. Ron sat silent, jaw clenched. He refused to speak, silence seemed to be the only option he could come up with.

"Not much of a talker ay?" Delvin chuckled. "Listen ere', you's going to start talking whether you like it or not. My boys 'ere have a way with gettin' answers." The men laughed as Delvin spoke, bringing the cigar to his lips and blowing out the foul smoke in Ron's face with an evil smirk. The smell burned his nostrils and made his eyes water.

"Now, I doubt your alone out ere'. You would be stupid to be. You got some friends hidin' in these woods with you?" the leader sucked on the cigar. Ron could feel the warmth of the embers glowing hot in his face. His heart beat fast, he could feel it pulsing in his neck.

"You wouldn't happen to have a girl with you? A girl would be an awful nice treat, right boys?" Delvin smiled wickedly, licking his yellowing teeth. The men sneered.

"My boys 'ere like the girls... that one 'specially." Delvin nodded towards the final snatcher who had been sitting quietly in the shadows. This snatcher seemed different than the others. He had a crazed hungry look in his eyes that burned with hatred and desire. Ron watched the snatcher lick his lips and smile, showing a row of rotten teeth through a curtain of greasy hair.

"Dirty bastard doesn't care if they mudblood, half-blood, or blood traitors...as long as they got tits." the leader made a rude gesture towards his chest- the men roared.

"They learn to like it." The greasy snatcher smirked evilly, grabbing between his legs. The men laughed harder. Ron's blood began to boil with anger.

"You wouldn't be holding back on us, would ya Stany boy?" Delvin smiled. Ron gritted his teeth in anger. He felt sick to his stomach at the thought of what these men would do if they had gotten a hold of Hermione.

"Nothin'? Alright, 'ave it your way." Delvin shrugged before shoving the glowing butt of his cigar into Ron's arm, burning his flesh. Ron writhed and screamed out in pain as the others jeered.

A snap of a twig distracted Ron from his thoughts. He pointed his wand to the sound, knuckles white as he gripped it tightly. Ron jumped as a small rabbit leapt out of the bush and scurried past him. Ron sighed loudly with relief, not realizing he had been holding his breath the whole time. Deciding it was safe, Ron continued to press forward through the woods.

A break in the trees began to form ahead as Ron walked. Picking up the pace, a road appeared before him. Adrenaline began to pump through his tired body as he ran to the street and saw several small cottages lining the road. A sense of hope fueled Ron as he began making his way towards the town.

It was strangely quiet as he walked through the village. The small town seemed to be completely deserted. As he strolled down the abandoned road, something caught his eye. A charred black house came to view. The entire half of the structure had been blown to bits, rubble and stone spilling out of the gaping hole. As Ron approached the destroyed home, he noticed something written on one of the remaining walls. His stomach churned. It was the dark mark with a warning that read:

 _"Let this be an example to all mudbloods and muggle-lovers who defy the Dark Lord."_

A mixture of anger and fear twisted his insides. He was afraid. Afraid of what the future would look like if they were to lose this war. They couldn't. _What would happen?_

The sound of broken glass under his feet stole his attention from his thoughts. Looking down, Ron noticed he was standing on a shattered picture frame. Bending down to get a closer look, he saw it was an image of a family. A younger couple holding a small girl. They looked happy as they all laughed, the couple peering into each other's eyes full of love and endearment. Ron feared the worst for this innocent family. _What was their fate?_

A large crash followed by the sound of loud voices pierced the silence and made Ron jerk. The sound had come from further down the road. Ron began to pick up speed, running towards the commotion.

As he approached a small strip of abandoned shops, he heard the loud shattering of glass followed by more yelling coming from inside one of the shops. He walked closer to the source of the chaos to a shop with a sign that said "Anise's Apothecary & Potions". Happiness began to wash over Ron, but fleeted quickly by another crash coming from inside.

"What is wrong with you?! Don't you have anything else better to do?" The middle-aged women screamed as Ron carefully shuffled through the open door. "Go terrorize someone else! Don't you see I am one of the only bloody places left in this village because of you gits. You have picked this town clean!" Her skin was dark and her hair was half pulled back and wild with black curls.

Two men stood across from her, both pointing their wands in her direction. One of the men had two wands in his hands- one must have been hers. She was defenseless. Ron chewed his lower lip. He had no time to waste- he promised Harry he would be in and out. Maybe he could quietly take what he needed, without them noticing.

"We know your up to something Anise. We've been watchin' you. Tell me, how come you walk out of this building more than walk in? Makes no sense. We see you leave multiple times a day, but never see you enter. How is that?" The dark-skinned snatcher questioned, wand still pointed at her.

"Maybe because your all blind pillocks who are piss drunk half the time." Anise fought. Ron decided he liked this women.

The bald tatted snatcher growled angrily. "Watch your tongue or I'll cut it off myself." He began to charge at her. Adrenaline began to pump through Ron's body. 'In and out' he had promised Harry, but he couldn't just sit here and watch this defenseless women get assaulted in front of his very eyes. He had to do something.

" _Immobulus."_ Ron whispered under the cloak. The bald man toppled over frozen, eyes bulging with a mixture of confusion and fear.

"How the hell-" The dark-skinned snatcher searched wildly, wand pointing in every direction.

" _Incarcerous."_ Ron pointed his wand at the final snatcher- ropes bound his body and mouth tightly causing him to crash to the floor, both wands rolling out of his hands. The man tried to scream, but his voice was muffled by the rope.

The women stood there shocked for a moment, but only a moment before quickly grabbing a small vile from the shelf and hovering over the bald snatcher- straddling his body. Ron gulped nervously- watching the scene unfold.

"Tell me, do you know what this is?" She asked the bald snatcher- sloshing the liquid in the vile slowly. His eyes darted from her face to the vile in fear- still unable to move. "No? This is a highly potent poison called Weedosoros. One drop of this and I could watch you convulse and choke on your own vomit until you die in a matter of minutes." She uncorked the vile. The snatchers eyes widened even more, beads of sweat forming on his brow.

"What should stop me from pouring this down your throat?" Anise said through gritted teeth. She grabbed the snatchers mouth and forced it to open while bringing the poison closer to his face. Gurgled grunts and whimpers began to escape the man as tears and sweat began to roll down his face. The other snatcher's muffled screams became louder as he thrashed, trying to escape the ropes that bound him.

Anise smirked and placed the cork back on the small vile. She slowly got up and walked over to her wand and picked it up from the floor.

"I've seen the kind of men you are. You make me sick. I should put you out your misery." Anise whispered as she pointed her wand at the dark-skinned man. The men whimpered again, pleading through muffled voices and gurgles.

" _Finite Incantatem_." Anise chanted. The bald snatcher immediately cried out and scrambled away from her like a frightened little boy. The other snatcher's ropes deteriorated and he crawled to his feet, shaking with fear.

"Leave - I never want to see your faces again. Next time- I won't be so lenient." Anise' lips curled in anger, wand pointing at the two men. The snatchers turned and ran out the door faster than Ron could blink. _Cowards._

Anise stood quietly until the two men were completely out of sight. She sighed, lowering her wand.

"I know you're in here. I owe you a great debt for what you have done for me." She whispered.

Ron stood there shocked. She seemed to be trustworthy- maybe she could help him... he had no idea where to even begin or what to look for. He battled his thoughts internally, wrestling with his doubts and fears. Desperate times can drive people to do mad things. With a deep breath, he made his final decision. Ron removed the invisibility cloak, revealing himself, hands raised in defense.

"Please, I don't mean you any trouble." Ron said shakily, hands trembling.

"No need to be afraid, I am a friend." Anise said gently. Ron believed her, slowly lowering his shaking hands.

"Th-thank you." Ron shook, rubbing the stubble on his cheeks nervously.

"Are you alright, dear?" she surveyed Ron, eyes filled with concern.

"I- I need your help. It's my friend, she's...she's sick. We don't know what's wrong with her, but I think it's bad. If we don't get her something soon...please. I'm afraid." Ron pleaded, eyes welling with tears.

"What is wrong with her?" Anise' eyesbrows furrowed, listening intently.

"I... I don't know. We thought it was a cold just a few days ago- but it's gotten worst. This morning she was lying on the floor and could barely breath. Her lips and fingers were turning blue, and her eyes were... blood red. Please, you have to help. I don't know if she can make it another night." Ron trembled. Anise contemplated the words slowly.

"By the sounds of it, I am glad you came to me when you did." Anise immediately walked off to a cupboard filled with potions and began to pull several viles and jars from the shelf and placed them on the table. She had laser-focus as she worked, muttering to herself while she strategically mixed the liquids and added various ingredients.

"I'm no healer, but you learn to pick up a thing or two when you live through two wars and live in a small village like this one." she said. The potion morphed colors, bubbled, and smoked as she worked. After several minutes, she put a cork on two viles and handed them to Ron.

"You make her drink this. It won't be pretty- but you have to make her. The other will help her sleep. She is going to need the rest." Anise directed. Ron nodded.

"I will. I can't thank you enough." Ron's eyes began to water.

"She will be alright." Anise smiled. "You know, I recognize you." she said through squinted eyes. Ron swallowed. He knew his face was plastered on wanted posters ever since the ministry found out he wasn't stuck at home with spattergroit. He was sure there was a nice reward for his return as well.

"Don't be nervous, dear. You're a Weasley, aren't you?" she asked.

"How...how did you know?" Ron asked confused. She chuckled.

"I could recognize a Weasley anywhere. I knew your parents. Especially your Uncles. We fought in the first war together. Gideon was a little quiet, but had this talent of making a room laugh whenever he spoke. Usually, it was making fun of his brother, Fabian. He was a clumsy lad, but so kind. The Prewett's were good brave men." she looked somber. Ron stood shocked. He rarely ever heard anything about his Uncles'. Molly rarely spoke about them. It always hurt her too much to talk about them.

"I - I don't really hear much about them. Mum doesn't talk about them, really." Ron stammered.

"Well, they were some of the best wizards I knew. I know your Mum loved them dearly." Anise smiled, looking lost in a fond memory. "Anyways, how long have you been on the run?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Months." Ron sighed.

"Do you have food? Supplies?" she questioned.

"No. Nothing." Ron shook his head.

"Come with me." Anise waved her hand for Ron to follow.

Ron followed her as she lead him to the back of the shop and into a hallway. They stopped in the corner next to a small cupboard that was stacked with dusty cauldrons and other jars of various ingredients and liquids. Anise peered behind her shoulder, making sure they were truly alone, before taking out her wand.

" _Revilio."_ she muttered. A small narrow staircase appeared, leading down to a hidden room. Ron gasped, taking a step back.

"This was- I mean _is-_ a safe-house. Never thought I'd have to use it again after the first war." Anise mumbled. Ron gulped and followed her down the stairs until they reached a room underneath.

The room reminded him almost of their potions classroom, but much more warm and welcoming. A large fireplace lit up the room and several cots lined the walls. Several of the beds were empty, and a few appeared to be occupied. A small kitchen was set up in the corner of the room as well.

"I smuggle those who are trying to escape and I offer sanctuary before they move on to the next safe place. All these people are avoiding capture from Snatchers, the Ministry, Death Eaters, Azkaban, you name it." Anise whispered. "Those snatchers you saw are on to me. I have been giving these folks polyjuice potion to travel to their portkeys safely looking like me." Anise sighed in frustration.

Ron looked around and surveyed the people. They all looked miserable, hungry, and exhausted. Ron could relate. He noticed a mother sitting on a cot with her daughter. The little girl had a glazed look in her eyes, as if she were lost in her own world. She couldn't be more than six years old.

"Death Eaters murdered that little girl's father, right in front of them both. He was a muggle." Anise whispered. "Poor girl needs Calming Draught just to get her through the nights."

A wave of anger, sadness, fear, and compassion swept over him. He could not imagine what they must have gone through- what they must _still_ be going through. Anise patted Ron's shoulder.

"Come, let's get you something to bring back to your friends." Anise walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a small bag and charmed it. She began to fill it with freshly baked bread, fruit, meat pies, and jars of beef stew. Ron's mouth began to water as the heavenly smell reached his nostrils. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen this much food.

"I don't know what to say, thank you." Ron stammered.

"Please, you helped me- I help you." Anise winked at him before handing him the bag. "I do have one favor to ask of you."

"Yes- anything!"

"I need help sneaking the mother and child to a portkey that will take them to their next safe place. Those Snatchers are watching closely. I cannot turn them both into me- plus the girl is too young. Maybe you can use your cloak and take the child with you? I will give the mother the polyjuice potion and you can carry the girl." Anise explained.

Ron thought through the plan- he _had_ to get back to Hermione fast...but this woman had helped him so much already. Anise had known his family, even fought along side them during the first war. She knew his uncles better than he. Ron looked over at the mother and child and watched as the woman stroked the little girls dark hair. The mother's face was shadowed with grief. He would help them.

"I'll do it. Where is the portkey?" Ron asked.

"Brilliant. It's in the burned home. Did you see it on the way to town?" Ron nodded. "There should be a small children's toy inside. You won't miss it." Anise instructed.

"Alright, but we will need to leave soon. I have to get back." Ron stated.

"Of course, but first - you will need your strength. Please, eat." Anise smiled as she poured a warm bowl of hot stew and cut a warm slice of bread.

It did not take much convincing for Ron to begin scarfing down the warm meal. Anise was right, he would need his strength for the journey back.


	4. The Smuggle

**AN:**

 **I think this is my first authors note ever! Anyways, thanks for all the likes, follows, and reviews! It's what inspires me to keep writing so please leave comments as it keeps me going! Please don't be afraid to critique as I'm always trying to better myself as writer.**

 **Also thank you for your patience as this chapter was really challenging to write since it took a lot of research to make sure I was using spells correctly. We're getting close to wrapping this story up! Thanks everyone for reading and enjoy :)**

* * *

Ron could feel the adrenaline beginning to course through his veins as he watched Anise peer through the window. Her eyes darted nervously, checking that the coast was clear. Ron swallowed, his throat dry. The food in his stomach churned with the nerves - he was beginning to regret the meal he had scarfed down earlier.

The mother paced back and forth in the small shop, compulsively tapping her wand at her side- occasionally pausing to peer out the window. The women looked exhausted, bags sunk well below her eyes, cheeks caved inward from lack of food. Her skin was a light olive tone, collar bones jutting out from her dirty clothes. Her dark brown hair was matted in a long braid that went down her back, random hairs fell loose, framing her thin face. In a former life, she would have been considered beautiful. Now, her green eyes told a story of grief and hidden trauma. The daughter was a spitting image of her, but instead of green eyes- hers was piercing blue. The young girl stood against the wall, eyes unfocused - lost in an unseen memory. Ron couldn't help but wonder what horrors plagued the young girls thoughts and nightmares. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to watch his own father killed so young.

A stinging pain brought Ron out his reverie. He didn't even notice his own fingers picking at the hanging skin around his dirty nails. A small cut appeared, blood began to seep, filling the crevices around his thumbnail, red mixing with grime that had been there who knows how long. As he nursed his finger, he watched the mother pause before dropping to her knees to level with her young daughter. Gently, she pushed a strand of dark brown hair behind the small girl's ear- forcing a smile, but failing to hide the look of fear that enveloped her.

"Now, you listen to me- and you listen carefully. This young man here is going to help us get to our new home. He will need to carry you, but you must not make a sound. No matter what- you listen to him. Understood?" She said sternly, cupping her daughter's face.

"But I want to be with you, Mum." the little girl whimpered- eyes threatening to overflow with tears.

"There is no other way."

The young girl began to cover her face, muffled sniffles escaping from behind her hands. Desperation plagued the mother's expression as she watched her daughter cry.

Ron felt helpless as the mother struggled to comfort the distraught child. Sadness and exhaustion filled her eyes as she glanced at Ron, desperate for help. With a deep breath, Ron shuffled awkwardly over to the child before dropping to his knees to face her. Slowly, she peered at Ron through her tear-covered fingers.

"Hey now- it's going to be alright." Ron smiled softly. "I'm going to keep you and your Mum safe. I won't leave her side. You will be right next to her the whole time. I promise." After a few sniffs, the girl nodded and dried her tear-streaked cheeks.

 _Thank you_ the mother mouths silently. Ron could only reply with a silent nod and a somber smile.

"They are gone," Anise said, stepping away from the window. "Alright dear, come - come. It's time." she said, sweeping her arm around the nervous mother and handing her the vile of the polyjuice potion. The mother accepts the vile with trembling hands before kneeling down, placing her hand on her daughter's shoulders.

"It's time to go. Remember what I said?" The little girl nodded meekly. "Good girl." She said, embracing her daughter, kissing the top of her head. "Now go with the young man."

Ron smiles at the small child and lifts her up gently. He could feel her small arms wrap around his neck, legs following suit.

"Hang on tight, alright?" Ron smiled. A small nod brushes against his shoulder.

"There isn't much time. You will have a small window when the portkey will be active. You must go."

"Thank you Anise. For everything." The mother places a hand on Anise shoulder before taking the vile liquid back, grimacing at the horrid taste. Ron watches as her skin began to grow darker and her long stringy hair turns to thick black ringlets. In a matter of seconds, she had transformed into the women who had saved them both.

"Mum?" The girl whimpered, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"It's alright dear- It will only last a little while. I'm still me." The mother assured her daughter.

"The potion's effects won't last more than an hour. The portkey is about 3 kilometers down the road in the abandoned house. You won't miss it." Anise said, pointing in the direction.

Ron throws the invisibility cloak over him and the child. Hand gripping the bag of precious supplies to his side to ensure that it would accompany him through his journey back. He clutches his wand tightly and inhales deeply.

"I'm ready." Ron breathed shakily.

"I cannot thank you enough." Anise whispers, grasping Ron's hand.

"I should be the one thanking you." He returns the gesture with a squeeze. His heart ached, wishing he could do more to show how appreciative he was to all that she had done for them. How she very well could be saving Hermione's life. The thought of her made his heart drop, his gut tangled with worry. The image of her limp body lying on the floor flashing through his memory. He shakes his head, forcing himself to push away the disturbing memory. There is no room for distractions. Not now. He needed his complete focus on the task ahead of him.

"Now go. Quickly." Anise ushered them out the door.

They were welcomed by a cold wind and bitter silence. Ron's eyes instinctively bounced to the tree-line and abandoned buildings, looking for any snatcher's that may have lingered behind to spy on them. Fingers enclosed tightly around his wand, the cut on his thumb stinging in the frigid air.

"Stay by my side." The mother whispers shakily under her breath.

"We are right here." Ron assures her.

The small girl squeezes Ron's neck tightly. With his free hand, he holds the girl securely to him. He wondered if she could feel his heart hammering through his chest. His stomach a pit of knots as they continued to stride towards their destination.

The minutes pass by slowly as they continue to walk down the road in silence. The houses were becoming more spread apart as the woods began to thicken around them. They had to have been half-way there by this point. It was completely still, yet the quiet was deafening. Their echoing footsteps seemed to bounce off the surrounding homes, announcing their presence. The occasional howl of wind whistled through the abandoned streets, the noise was eery- reminding them of the desolation this town had suffered by the hands of these evil wizards. It sent shivers down his spine.

Every movement made Ron jerk his head in paranoia. A bird flying, a twig snapping, every noise was amplified. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. An ache began to develop in his hand as he loosened his grip on his wand. There was no way in _hell_ he was letting anything else happen to this broken family. They had suffered enough from this war, he would get them to safety. He swore it.

A shadow caught in the corner of his eye, causing him to jump. He could have sworn he saw the back of a cloak disappeared into the tree-line. Another dark figure caught his eye again, this time- behind one of the houses. Then another up ahead. His heart quickened. His fears were confirmed, they were being followed.

 _Shit_.

"Ready your wand." Ron whispers. The mother's eyes widen as she continues to look down at her feet, quickening her pace. Discreetly, she slides her wand to her side.

The small girl's breath quicken in Ron's ear as she tightens her grip around his sweaty neck. A small whimper escapes her. Ron glances behind him and sees another snatcher following several houses back. The same thick bald snatcher from before. A look of evil vengeance plagues his face, teeth clenching in anger.

"I see them." The mother breaths, continuing to look down at her feet. "What do we do?"

A series of curses stream through his mind as he desperately tried to think of a way to get them all out of this safely. There were four snatchers total that he was aware of. One ahead, two on either side, and one behind. They were surrounded.

"Don't make a move until I say so. Keep walking, we are close." Ron instructed quietly. She nodded in agreement.

The walk was agonizing. Ron could see the dark figures come in and out of the shadows as they made their way to the abandoned house. His heart pounded quickly, making his neck pulsate. Sweat began to form and trickle down his temple as they stride quickly down the road. Ron's breath hitched as the rubble of the home came to view up ahead, accompanied with the dark-skinned snatcher from earlier.

 _Shit._ This was vengeance. And it looks like they brought friends.

"On my mark, take down the snatcher at the house. There should be one in the woods to your left. I'll go for the other two." Ron whispers, securing the girl to his chest. The mother breathes shakily and nods once more.

As they approach the remnence of the charred home, the dark-skinned snatcher whistles, calling the others to step out of the shadows. Sneers plastered on their faces knowing they have outnumbered the women. The mother pauses, raising her wand - eyes darting wildly at the men surrounding her. A pale scrawny snatcher appears to the left, dark bags hung below his eyes and a grin splayed across his narrow face. The other man stepped out from the trees to Ron's right, his dark hair shaved closely to his scalp and teeth blackened with rot. Tattoos painted his face. Ron's skin crawled as he watched him scan the woman up and down with desire. Footsteps crunched directly to Ron's right, heart skipping a beat as the bald snatcher came within a foot from him. The small girl goes rigid in his arm. The snatcher's eyes burned with blood-lust. Ron held his breath, pointing his wand at the bald snatcher with one hand and holding the girl close with the other.

"Well, well, well. Look who we 'ave here. 'ello Anise." the dark-skinned snatcher sneers. The mother grips her wand tight, pointing it at the man.

"My friend, Marve, and I weren't too 'appy with that stunt you pulled earlier. Weren't we Marve?" the bold snatcher growls in response - lips curled up, showing a row of crooked yellowed teeth.

"But don't you worry, we 'ave plans for you." he grins wickedly. The others began to chortle in laughter as they begin to close in on the women like a pack of hungry wolves. Ron's heart thumps loud against his chest, he was sure they could hear him. His breath quickens as he watches the men move closer and closer, each waiting for their opponent to make the first move.

 _Sod it._

"NOW!" Ron bellows.

At once, chaos erupts as spells began to fly. The bald death eater, who Ron had learned went by the name Marve, had quickly spun around, frantically searching for the voice that had yelled inches away. Ron stuck his wand out from the cloak pointing it at the man.

" _Levicorpus_." Ron mutters under his breath. Immediately, Marve is hoisted into the air by the ankles, a short yelp to follow. His eyes wide with bewilderment.

"Show yourself you coward!" the bald snatcher demands, spit collecting at the corners of his mouth. His arms dangled below, completely helpless.

Ron glances over to the mother and saw that she was able to stun the pale death eater as he lies back on the rubble, unconscious. Blood seeped down the side of his face from a gash on his forehead. The mother quickly blocks another spell thrown at her from the dark-skinned death eater. The other tatted snatcher looks wildly for a sign of Ron.

"Where is he, Marve? I don't see him!" he panics, wand pointing all around him.

Suddenly, a loud blast erupts to Ron's right, almost scorching his ankles and causing him to stumble. He holds the small girl tightly to his chest. Wildly, Ron looks around trying to determine where the explosion had come from and sees Marve hanging upsidedown, waving his wand.

" _Confringo_!" he roars angrily. Another bang to his left. He holds the girl protectively as she buried her face deep into his neck, whimpering.

" _Bombarda_!" the tatted snatcher shrieks, aiming his wand in the direction of Ron. Ron ducks right in time as the blast hits the rubble behind him, causing debris to fly in all different directions. He cradles the girl to protect her as small rubble crashes into his back like large hail made of stones.

One after another, the snatcher's fire spells randomly as Ron dances his way his from the curses and blasts around him. In the corner of his eye, Ron could see a blazing light erupting towards him.

" _Protego_!" the woman shouts as a ripple in the air appears before him. Immediately, the blast rebounds and hits Marve square in the chest. His body goes limp from the backfired curse he had sent, wand clattering to the ground.

Ron sends silent thanks to the woman, but is quickly interrupted as the dark-skinned death eater finds his opportunity and disarms her, catching her wand in the air. Ron's stomach drops as he watches in horror the tatted man snatch her, digging his wand into her temple.

 _No_.

"Show yourself!" he bellows, spit spraying from his mouth. The mother's eyes fill with anger, teeth clenched behind her curled lips.

Ron looks at the frightened girl in his arms and places a finger on his lips, quieting her as she stares at him- eyes wide with terror. Silently, he walks into the destroyed home and crouches behind one of the remaining walls. Gently, he places the small girl on the floor and faces her.

"Stay right here. Don't move until I tell you it's safe." Ron whispers. The young girl nods quietly, lip quivering as tears begin to fall down her cheeks. Ron ducks from under the cloak, no longer protected by the concealment it offered.

"I'll kill her! I'll do it! I swear I will if you don't come out right now!" the snatcher threatens, digging the wand deeper into her temple. The other snatcher stands next to him, eyes ablaze with fury.

Ron's heart pounds as he thinks through a dozen different options, all of them useless. With a sigh of surrender, he emerges from behind the charred wall- arms raised in defense. Adrenaline courses through his body as he desperately tries to think of a plan.

"Let her go." Ron pleads. He licks his lips nervously, tasting the salt of the sweat that has coated his skin. He watches the tatted snatcher tighten his grip on the helpless women, while the other points his wand in his direction. The scene displayed before him seems completely and utterly hopeless.

"Drop the wand." the dark-skinned snatcher demands, fixing the wand at him.

"You know I can't do that." Ron states calmly, attempting to stall- to give him time to think. His mind drifts to the countless games of wizarding chess he has played over the years with his siblings. Every strategic win and the times he's learned from his losses, refining himself at the game. He examines the distance between him and the men, their stance, and the women helplessly stuck in the middle. They were pawns in this game. He swallows, strategically thinking of his next move.

"Ah. But you will if you don't want your friend to die 'ere." the snatcher smiles, showing off his blackened teeth.

Suddenly, the mother's skin begins to ripple, the shape of her body grotesquely morphing into a different form. Her dark skin slowly turns lighter to an olive tone. Thick black hair shrinks down to become silky dark brown, falling past her shoulders.

"What the hell..." the tatted man mutters in confusion as he looks at the women transforming to a complete stranger in his arms. The dark-skinned snatcher glances over, eyebrows furrowed at the odd spectacle. Ron's eyes widen in anticipation, a distraction- just what he needed.

" _Relacio_!" Ron yells, pointing the wand at the tatted snatcher. Immediately, the man and woman are launched in opposite directions. The tatted snatcher is thrown hard into a tree trunk, knocking him to the floor with a loud thud. The mother lands hard near the dangling bald snatcher, whose face had now grown purple, saliva dribbling down the sides of his mouth. A wave of relief washes over Ron as she began to stir.

A guttural scream of rage brings Ron's attention back as he watches the dark-skinned snatcher wave his wand wildly.

" _Depulso_!" the man growls. The force of the spell flings Ron several feet back, slamming him into the stone wall behind him. A sickening crunch accompanies the impact, unsure if it was the crumbling wall or an injury he was not yet fully aware of. His head pounds with pain, as he looks around- disoriented by the force of the spell. The ground spins out of control, the earth feels as if it was tilted. A warm liquid begins to flow down the side of his face, dripping off his chin like tears. Dizzily, he sees his wand lying on the ground next to him.

" _Descendo_!" the man yells. The awning above him begins to tremble before collapsing violently. Quickly, Ron grasps his wand and lifts it into the air.

" _Reducto_." he pants. The roof erupts into dust, peacefully falling around him like snow that smelled of burned wood.

Ron hobbles onto shaky legs, body throbbing from the harsh collision. He aims his wand at the snatcher, wiping the blood off his lip with his free hand. The man approaches him, a smug evil smile wipes across his face. He thinks he's won.

Ron shoots a curse, the snatcher dodges it with ease. He casts another, the man brushes it off as if it was an insect. The man counters, Ron quickly deflects. The smile begins to fade into a scowl as they continue to bounce and dodge curses from one another. In the distance, Ron notices the mother begin to crawl towards Marve's wand that lie on the ground below the limp dangling man. Another curse flies towards Ron, but he misses it - unable to block it with the distraction. It hits hard, legs fail him as if they are bound together by some invisible force. He falls back with a thud.

The snatcher approaches him cautiously, eyes wild as he begins to laugh maniacally. "You tricky bastard. I better catch a good price for you for the shit you put us through. What's your name?" Ron stares at him angrily, wincing from the pain that begins to take over his body.

"Piss off." Ron spits through gritted teeth.

"I asked what's your name, you git." he demands, kicking Ron in the stomach. The wind knocks out of his lungs, wheezes escape his mouth as he struggles to catch his breath. In the corner of his eye, he sees the mother rise from the ground, Marve's wand in hand. Another kick hits him in the chest- Ron sputters as raspy coughs wrack his sore body.

" _Everte_ _Statum_!" a light erupts from her wand towards the man, hitting him directly in his torso. A shocked look appears on his face before knocking him back to the ground, unmoving.

The mother approaches Ron, flicking her wand in a small motion. Immediately, his legs unstick and she lends out a hand, helping him up on his shaky feet. They both look at one another, panting from the battle they had won. Each taking a moment to catch their breaths from the exhausting fight.

"You alright?" Ron asks breathlessly. The woman nods, taking a moment to look around at the aftermath of their battle.

"Yeah, You?" she asks in between gasps of air.

"I think so." Ron winces. He definitely didn't make it out unscathed. But they made it nonetheless. The woman walks over to her wand on the ground and picks it up, tossing the snatchers to the side.

"Where is Aela?" she asks wildly. The name was foreign to Ron until he realizes that must have been her daughter's name.

"She's in the house. She's alright." He says breathlessly. Silently, the woman takes off towards the gaping entrance of the house, stepping over rubble as she walks. Ron follows, limping closely behind.

"Aela? It's okay, we're safe." the mother calls out gently. Suddenly, the little girl appears- whipping off the cloak and throwing it to the side.

"Mum!" she sobs, running into her arms. Ron watches as the two embrace tightly, the mother gently rocking the small girl whispering gently in her ear as she cried. Ron couldn't help but think of his own Mum and her fierce protective love she had for her children. A lump forms in the back of his throat as he watches the two of them hugging one another, mother stroking the young girl's hair as tears roll down her own cheek.

In the corner of the house, Ron notices a small stuffed bear sitting atop the rubble. It felt odd, like it shouldn't belong there. His suspicions were confirmed as he saw the bear begin to vibrate and glow. It was the portkey. Ron clears his throat, the mother looks up at him, cheeks slick with tears.

"I hate to rush this, but I believe your portkey is ready." Ron smiles, pointing towards the stuffed toy. The mother gets up and strides towards Ron, hugging him tightly. Ron's eyes widen in shock at the sudden affection before patting the woman on the back.

"Thank you." she says through thick tears. The mother breaks away, surveying his face- noticing the wounds that the young man had suffered while protecting them.

" _Episkey_." she mutters with her wand. Immediately, Ron could feel the gash in his head and lip begin to close up. His head suddenly stops pounding and the pain slowly subsided to a dull throb.

"Thank you." Ron sighs in relief.

"It's the least I can do." she smiles while grabbing her daughter's hand. They walk over to the portkey, the mother reaches out her hand to grasp the bear before she hesitates and pauses.

"Wait. I never caught your name."

"It's Ron." he smiles, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Ron. We will never forget the kindness you have shown us today." she smiles.

Ron feels his ears go warm as his cheeks flush, he responds with a meek nod. The small girl smiles at him shyly. It was the first time he had ever seen the girl smile. The woman grasps the portkey and with a quick snap, they were gone- leaving Ron alone in the dilapidated home.


	5. Hopeful Mourning

Ron limps through the woods, retracing his journey back to the tent they have called 'home' these last several months. _Months_. Ron scoffs at the thought. It has felt like an eternity.

A sharp pain shoots up his leg as he stumbles over a tree root. Wincing, he grits his teeth and powers through the pain of his injuries. A mantra repeats in his head, strengthening him to continue pressing forward.

 _Please be okay. Please._

He mutters it over and over again with every step. Maybe if he said it enough, he could speak it into existence. Make it true.

The sun pierces the trees, causing Ron to squint through the leaves. It was well past the point of mid-day. Earlier that morning, he had told Harry he would be back in a few hours. Little did he know, it would take the better half of the day for him to finally make his return back with the challenges he had faced. The sky was beginning to take on a gold-tone as the sun moved much too fast for his liking.

Worry torments his mind as he imagines the state Hermione would be in. It had only taken a few hours for her condition to decline as rapidly as it did - the thought scares him of what he would be returning to. The fear drives him to move faster, shoving tree limbs out of his path. Branches hit his face, clawing at the cloak, trying to hinder him. This time, Ron didn't care how much noise he was making. He crashes through the forest, risking the sound of thrashing leaves to get to his destination quicker. To get to _her_ quicker.

His hand brushes to his side for the hundredth time, repeating the ritual to ensure that the precious supplies was still there. He thinks of Anise. Gratitude rushes from his core to the woman who had so selflessly helped him. Maybe one day, once this whole damn war was over, he could thank her properly.

Thoughts of the mother and her child begin to flood his mind. He wonders if they made it to safety. Secretly, he was grateful he had never found out the name of the woman. The fear of hearing her name listed amongst the dead over _Potterwatch_ would have destroyed him. Just the idea made his insides twist with dread. With a shaky breath, he pushes the disturbing thought away.

 _They'll make it. They had to make it._

The air begins to taste used and stale under the cloak as Ron breathes heavily, hobbling his way through the trees. The terrain was beginning to look familiar as he quickens his pace - dodging a tree limb into a clearing. Relief floods him as the top of a tent emerges above the small slope he climbed. Harry could be seen pacing back and forth in front of the entrance, hands running through his hair nervously. Ron rips the cloak off of him, staggering towards the canopy. Immediately, Harry lifts his wand, freezing in his direction. Realization washes over his features as he drops his guard and rushes to Ron.

"Thank Merlin, what took you so-" Harry's eyes widen as he notices the dried blood crusted along Ron's face complete with scattered cuts and bruises. "What happened?"

"Long story. How is she?" Ron strides quickly to the tent, not stopping. Harry follows closely behind.

"Not good. She's gotten worst -started even asking for her Mum at one point. That was a few hours ago. I haven't gotten her to talk since." Harry panted, as they walk quickly.

Ron whips open the entrance to the tent and looks over to the sofa. His breath hitches in the back of his throat. A stranger lies there. A person Ron would never have recognized. He would have mistaken her for a corpse. The only proof of life was the glistening sweat that covered her face, reflecting the light flickering off the bluebell flames. Instantly, Ron crumbles to the couch dropping to his knees- lying a hand on Hermione's cold cheek. Small wheezes escape her cracked pale lips, filling Ron with ease knowing that she was still breathing.

"Hermione? Wake up." He whispers, shaking her gently. No response. His insides knot with concern.

"I've tried, Ron. I can't get her to wake." Harry sighs shakily.

Ron finds the bag on his side and immediately dives his arm in the pack of supplies that Anise had given him, feeling around the bread and warm jars of stew until his hands find the small glass vile that she had given him.

"Where did you get-"

"Like I said, it's a long story." Ron interrupts, uncorking the vile. The smell of burnt hair hits them both, causing them to grimace. The black liquid sloshes inside the small tube, thick as mud.

"How do you know it will help her?" Harry questions, doubt swimming in his eyes.

"I don't... I just have to trust the person who gave it to me knew what they were doing." Ron sighs.

With a look of skepticism, Harry circles around the couch and helps lift Hermione up by her shoulders. Ron brings the small vile to her dried lips. His heart hammers against his chest, hesitating to drain the sickening potion past her lips. What if something goes wrong? What would they do?

His hand begins to tremble, gut knotting with fear. Ron scans Hermione- jagged shallow breaths swell within her chest. Pain haunts her unconscious face. They had no time to waste. With a deep breath, Ron tips the vile liquid into her mouth, draining the potion down her throat. Harry helps gently tilt her head back, making sure the potion goes down. With a small gag, Hermione swallows.

They watch, waiting with anticipation as Hermione continues to lie still. Nothing happens. Harry looks at Ron, face reflecting the concerns of his own.

"Did it wor-" Harry's question is cut short as Hermione's eyes shoot open, back arching in a sickening angle. Ron stumbles backwards, watching the violent display in horror.

Hermione's face turns upright, mouth open as if invisible hands are clasped tightly around her neck suffocating her. A guttural sound comes from deep in her chest as she is strangled by the unseen force. Her eyes are wild with panic, pupils dilated. Harry watches, paralyzed with fear.

"Hermione?!" Ron scrambles to her side and grasps her hand tightly.

Hermione's spine flexes, bowing off the sofa. Her hand clasps around Ron's in an iron grip. Veins bulge out of her neck and forehead, turning as black as the potion she had ingested. Black thick fluid begins to trickle out of her nose.

Sweat drenches her body, muscles seizing in ripples. A shudder rips through her entire body. Her eyes begin to roll in the back of her head. Black thick liquid gurgles out the sides of her mouth. Harry recoils, a trembling hand covering his mouth in terror.

"Hermione!" Ron cries, gripping her hand tighter. She was dying. It was all his fault.

After what feels like an eternity, Hermione slackens- body going limp. The veins in her neck turn from black to grey. Her grip releases, breaking the hold of Ron's hand.

Ron stares, waiting for some new violent spasm- but there is nothing. Nothing but her chest lying still, unmoving.

 _No_.

"Hermione?" Ron grabs her shoulders, shaking her. She continues to lie motionless. Fear crashes over him like an icy wave. "Hermione! Come on. Breath. Breath!" He says through gritted teeth, tears rolling down his cheeks as he shakes his lifeless friend.

"No. Please. Don't - don't do this." Ron begs, tears spilling down his nose and onto her colorless face. He's lost her. And it's all because of him. He's lost the only girl he's ever loved, and never even had the chance to tell her.

Harry stands in shock, eyes wide as he watches his best friend rock Hermione's pale body. Her lips slowly turn blue as her head lolls to the side against Ron's chest.

Ron's cries are suddenly interrupted by Hermione gasping for air- bolting upright coughing up remnants of the thick dark liquid. Color floods into her face- filling her cheeks and lips with life. She drinks the air into her lungs, chest filling with the sweet substance. It's as if she had been underwater for hours. Chest heaving, she slowly comes to her senses- becoming aware of her surroundings. Ron kneels to her side- eyes wide and glistening with tears, the look of hysteria etched into his face.

Ron chokes out a sob, wrapping his arms around her - holding her tight. Hermione can feel his body tremble as silent sobs wrack his body. She wraps his arms around him, squeezing him tight as memories flood back to her. She recalls him going to get help, leaving her with Harry.

 _What had happened?_

She feels Harry's arms wrap around them both, sniffling back tears. The three friends hold each other, unaware of everything beyond Hermione's skin, growing warmer and warmer with every passing second.

 _"I'm okay. I'm okay."_ Hermione pants, reassuring them as well as convincing herself in the process. Her body was still weak, but she felt a new-found energy coursing through her body. Her strength was already coming back to her.

The three of them pull away. A half-sob half-laugh escapes Ron as he runs his hands across his glistening cheeks. Harry takes off his glasses, wiping tears from his red-rimmed eye as he laughs shakily. They act as if she had died.

"What happened?" Hermione breaths, noticing the dark liquid that splattered her skin and clothes. Her eyes furrow in confusion.

"Ron left this morning to find help. He was gone for hours- I almost left without him. You had gotten in such bad shape, I was debating on taking you to a muggle hospital. He finally showed up with some sort of potion and gave it to you." Harry explains.

Before she knew it, Ron hands her a wet washcloth. Hermione accepts it thankfully, wiping her face clean with the fabric. She observes the dark matter coating the dirty rag- mind already churning on what property could cause her body to react in such a way. She doesn't recall ever learning anything like this in potions class.

Hermione looks up to question what the strange substance was when she notices Ron's appearance. Dried blood plastered the side of his face, his lip was busted, and a sick yellowing bruise can be seen forming on his cheek. Yet, all he was fixated on was her. A look of tenderness washing over his features as he gazed at her.

"Ron, what happened to you?" Hermione demands, eyes filled with concern.

"Oh- nothing," Ron stammers, breaking him out of his reverie. instinctively, he brushes his hands over the dried gash on his forehead. "Just ran into a little trouble along the way." He shrugs, trying to alleviate their concern. Harry and Hermione glower at him, pressing him for answers. Ron sighs in defeat.

"It was just some snatchers- that's all."

"Anything we should be worried about?" Harry questions.

"Nah, I took care of it." Ron pauses. He could see the worry nagging at the back of their minds. He debated telling them of Anise and smuggling the mother and child, but decided against it. It would be a story for another day.

"Oh! I almost forgot. I brought you something else." Ron says, happy to change the subject. Pulling out his pack, he begins digging his arm into the bag and pulls out the jars of stew, fruit, bread, and pies - lying it all on the floor in a beautiful display. Their eyes widen in amazement, taking in the sight of more food they had seen in months. The aroma alone taunted their taste buds, causing their mouths to water with desire.

"How did you..." Hermione stumbles.

"Ron, this is brilliant!" Harry laughs, slapping a hand on Ron's back.

Hermione smiles warmly as Ron shrugs humbly, folding his hands over his chest- muttering something under his breath about it being 'nothin' before his ears glow crimson.

The three friends enjoy their meal together, the food renewing their body and spirits in ways they had so desperately needed. Ron glances at Hermione throughout the meal, mesmerized by the way she lifted the bowl of stew to her lips, closing her eyes to savor the taste. Every little thing she did - every movement she made was a reminder that she was alive. That he hadn't lost her.

"Ron, you okay?" Harry says through a mouthful of food."You've barely touched your food. Quite unlike you, really." Ron snaps out of it, shaking his head.

"Uh- yeah. Sorry, just tired." Ron stumbles, beginning to spoon the delicious stew in his mouth.

They finish their meal, stomachs full for the first time in a long time. The bluebell flames begin to fill the tent with light accompanied with contentment as the sun sets, bringing on the night.

* * *

Harry had volunteered to take the first shift that night. Nobody had protested as Hermione needed her rest and Ron was looking pretty banged up from his journey.

The boys wash up for the evening so they could give Hermione her privacy. She takes an extra long shower that night. The warm water runs down her body, washing away the days of filth and sickness she had lived in these last few days. Black cloudy liquid swirls down the drain as she wipes off the remnants of the dried dark matter off her skin and neck.

Her mind drifts as she soaks in the steamy water. The look of the boys faces when she had woke haunts her thoughts. They had been so frightened. _Surely I wasn't that bad to have scared them like that._

She steps out of the shower, dressing in clean clothes. Wiping the condensation from the mirror, she stares at her reflection. The bags under her eyes had almost completely disappeared, her cheeks and lips flushed with life. She looked healthy. She felt hopeful.

Drying her hair with a towel, she walks out of the restroom and hears the soft lull of the radio. A noise she had shamefully discovered she had missed falling asleep to. Ron sits on the couch, holding his head- a look of discomfort etched into his face. A twinge of guilt overcomes Hermione as she watches him- clearly feeling the after-effects of whatever trouble he had run into earlier. It takes a moment for Ron to notice her standing there and immediately rises from the sofa, examining her carefully. Concern filling his eyes. Something he had been doing all night.

"How are you feeling?"

"Honestly, Ron. How many times are you going to ask me that?" She stares at him, exasperated.

"Right- sorry. Just checking," he mutters. Delicately, he lowers himself back down on the sofa. He winces, feeling the injuries he had sustained more than he already did. With the rush of adrenaline gone, the pain now crept into his body. Every little movement brought on a wave of aches and strains.

"I should be asking you the same thing." she says, sitting next to him. Ron blinks, surprised that she willingly chose to be near him. He had gotten so used to her brooding in the farthest corner from him- it felt foreign to see her sitting so close.

"'M'fine." he says, resting his head on the back of the couch. He closes his eyes- attempting to ignore the throbbing that pounded his head where he had been hit earlier. Blimey, those snatchers had given him a beating.

The fresh fragrance of her soap drifted to him as she sat close. It was this scent that he had so often related to Hermione for years. It was the very scent he had unmistakenly smelled in the Amortentia potion during Slughorns class last year. The smell alone made him feel light-headed.

"I never thanked you for what you did for me." Hermione said softly, breaking the silence.

"You would have done the same for me or Harry." Ron says, shrugging his shoulders.

"Thank you," She says, laying her hand on his. "For everything."

His head perks up- blue eyes fixate on her. He forces a small smile- giving her hand a small squeeze before she withdraws it back to her lap. The air suddenly felt thicker.

She notices the cuts that scatter his face- one particular gash on his forehead that looked rather deep. She surveys the rest of his body- noticing a copper red stain that seeped through the sleeve of his jumper.

"That looks painful."

"Yeah? You should see the other guys." Ron attempts to joke.

"C'mon then, let's take a look." She says nodding at his tattered bloodied arm.

He looks at her, registering what she is referring to and sighs in surrender. Gingerly, he tugs the jumper over his t-shirt- sucking air through his teeth as he peels the sweater off of his aching body, tossing it to the side.

Hermione examines the damage he suffered, taking in the dark bruises surrounding the fiercer cuts on his arms. One of his arms was painted with blistering red burns. Cold light fingertips whisp across his arm as Hermione examines each cut- goosebumps erupt across his skin at the light touch. Abruptly, she stands and begins to dig in her bag with determination- looking for the familiar glass vile.

"What are you-"

"Ah- There it is," She says, shoulder-deep in her charmed bag. "I knew I had some Dittany left." She brings out the small tube and uncorks it, grabbing a piece of cloth. She sits back on the sofa, tucking her foot under her leg- facing Ron. "You took care of me. Let me take care of you."

Not long ago after Ron had gotten splinched, this had been a nightly ritual of theirs. Hermione would pour dittany over his wounds as Ron would try and crack jokes or discuss their next move- anything to try and distract her from blaming herself for the accident. It was never her fault- he knew that. He only wished she knew. Even now, he could see her eyeing the twirling scar on his arm- sadness haunting her eyes as she worked on soaking the cloth with the potion.

Alright. Go at it." Ron surrenders.

Delicately, she begins to dab at the small cuts and darkening bruises that riddled his face. Paying special attention to the gash across his forehead. The cuts slowly begin to mend themselves as she works- bruises fading from black to a bluish yellow. Ron takes the opportunity to survey her, taking in every beautiful feature of her face. The way her lips pressed together in concentration, eyebrows furrowed intensely. She can feel his eyes on her as she works. Suddenly, it felt harder to breathe- but this time it wasn't due to illness.

"Do you remember the night of Bill's wedding?" Ron whispers softly.

Images of that night come twirling into her memory. They had danced the whole evening, laughing and joking the night away before it had turned to complete chaos. But for a short while, it was perfect. It almost felt like a dream looking back at it. They had danced so close that night. Hermione's cheeks grow warm as she recalls the way he had made her feel.

"Yes." She says hesitantly- realizing that she had taken a little too long to answer him. Nervously, she busy's herself- dabbing at a burn on his neck.

"I think of that night a lot, you know. How I wish the death eaters would have waited just one more bloody night. Took me long enough to ask my best friend to dance." Ron chuckles. Hermione froze, locking eyes with his- hand unknowingly floating in mid-air. She blinks at him- surprised by the words that he had spoken. A deep sigh escapes him, disappointment washing over his face.

"Then just like that. It was over."

His eyes bore into hers. The silence hangs, begging to be broken. There is nothing but the lull of the radio listing the names of those who are dead or missing. The silence brings her to her senses as she begins to busy herself with a gash on his arm. Grateful that her hair has draped over her face- hiding her flustered emotions.

"I always wonder... what if-" Ron pauses, his mouth opening and closing - struggling to find the right words he wanted to say. "what if the death eaters never came that night? What would have happened? Y'know, between us?"

Hemione's breath hitches in her throat as her cheeks flush with warmth. She stops and stares into his blue eyes, reveling in this rare moment of complete vulnerability he was sharing with her.

"I...I don't know." she admits, shaking her head. Her eyes begin to prickle with tears at the thought of what could have been. It was something that she had wondered often- even after he had left her and Harry alone. She had hated herself for it. Even now in the midst of this war, she can't help but wonder what life would have looked like if none of this ever happened. She almost mourns for her unknown future- not knowing if they would even make it out of this. Struggling to fight back tears, she looks back down to tend to the burns on his forearm. His arm blurs behind her watery eyes.

Ron grasps her hand firmly, causing her to gasp- dropping the cloth.

"Hermione. Look at me."

Heart hammering, she looks up- surprised by the sudden change in his tone. His eyes burn with intensity, but behind it hides something else. Sadness? Worry maybe?

"What happened tonight- you don't know how close you were to-to." He couldn't bring himself to say it. He couldn't even fathom the thought. "- you stopped breathing. I watched the life drain from your face." Ron's voice trembles. In an instant, his guard is broken - face twisting with sadness as he relives the fresh memories of holding her lifeless body. Something that would surely haunt him the rest of his life.

"What?" She whimpers. Shock sways her to the point where she felt unsteady. She had stopped breathing? Surely she wasn't close to... she remembers the crazed expressions of pure terror, shock, and relief that painted Harry and Ron's faces when she had woken. Realization washes over her. Her friends had watched her fight for her life tonight. They had been scared that she would not win.

The list of names drawl on over the radio as Ron hangs his head - struggling to compose himself. One of those names could have been hers. They could very well be any of theirs. Nobody was guaranteed to survive this.

"I'm sorry, Ron. I didn't know." She lies a gentle hand on his shoulder. Slowly he lifts his blood-shot eyes, to look at her.

"Hermione, I- I can't lose you." Ron sniffs, grasping her hands. "I don't know what I would do if -"

"I'm not going anywhere," Hermione interrupts, squeezing his hands tightly. Ron avoids her gaze, fighting away tears that threaten to spill. Tenderly, she reaches out touching his jaw- fighting for him to look at her. Slowly, red-rimmed eyes meet hers.

"Ron. I'm _not_ leaving you." she repeats sternly, thumb caressing his stubbled cheek. Blue eyes dart over her face, taking in the words she was promising him. Gently, he grabs her hand from his jaw and guides it to his mouth- tenderly kissing each of her knuckles.

Her breath hitches, heart pounding out of her chest. She feels herself grow light-headed with every kiss- eyes never breaking from her own.

"Now you promise me." She whispers, transfixed by the intimate gesture he had just shared with her. There was no way she was going to lose this. This would keep them alive.

"I already promised you- I'm never leaving you." Ron murmurs into her hand softly before kissing another knuckle.

Tears roll silently down her cheeks as she surveys his tender expression. With a shaky breath, Hermione wraps her arms around his neck, holding him tightly- pouring as much emotion as she could into her embrace. Ignoring his sore body, he fervently wraps his arms around her waist, squeezing her close to him. He buries his nose into her damp hair, stroking it gently. Ron's warm breaths tickle her throat as she caresses the nape of his neck. They hold one another as the list of names drawls to an end over the radio - leaving them in silence.

* * *

 **A/N: Well guys- it's come to an end. I really hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I always felt Ron never got enough credit for his bravery and selflessness. I really loved getting to showcase this side of him more. I also had a lot of fun writing about what life looked like outside of their tent. This was a war. I had always wished I could see how it had affected others around them.**

 **Anyways, please do like, follow, and leave comments. It helps me know you guys are interested to read more :) It's what inspires me to keep writing. I have more ideas, so it helps to know you all appreciate it!**


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